


Cupid

by Medeafic



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-18
Updated: 2010-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Karl wants to take Chris out on a date, but is afraid to ask him. Enter John Cho.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This was written for the Trek RPF Christmas exchange 2010, for wholeo9, and originally posted there. Many thank yous to emmessann and zjofierose for the beta help.

_Trust me, Karl. Trust me._ Five words that Karl wishes he’d never heard, because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be stuck here stammering like a school kid who hasn’t done his homework and can’t think of a good excuse.

“I didn’t realize,” he says again. “I thought it was going to be…I thought John and Kerri…”

Chris nods. “Yeah, I thought they’d be here already. I was a little late. Well, hey, I guess they got caught up. Strange that John hasn’t called, though.”

Strange that the table is only set for two, and that a bottle of Veuve Clicquot was delivered, complimentary, to their table soon after they sat down. And strange that there are rose petals sprinkled across the tablecloth between them, and tealight candles.

“Maybe he tried,” Karl squeaks. “I’ll call him. Just in case he tried and…” He turns away from a blithe-looking Chris, fumbling with his phone, but John doesn’t answer. Of course. “He’s not picking up.”

“I just hope he’s okay,” Chris says.

“Oh, I’m sure he is,” Karl replies, a little more savagely than he’d like. He’s never going to speak to John Cho again, outside of scripted lines. And he’s certainly never going to _drink_ in front of him again. He just hopes that Chris won’t catch on that this is supposed to be a _date_ before the night is over, because that would be – he shivers, just thinking about it.

~~~~

It had been three weeks ago when Karl had let down his guard and blurted out his dirty little secret.

“Oh, Karl. Oh, Karl, Karl, Karl.”

“Stop saying my name. And damn it, Cho, stop grinning at me like that. I feel stupid enough as it is.”

“Who else knows about your little predicament?”

“No one, and if you tell anyone else, I’ll—”

“Relax,” John drawled. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I just think it’s sweet.”

“It’s not sweet. It’s embarrassing and inappropriate and I feel weird.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Karl,” John told him, faux-serious. He laid a hand on Karl’s arm and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Right now my heart wants me to punch you.”

John had sat back a little then, but looked sympathetic. That look, that sympathetic look that Karl had been getting from everyone since his divorce, even though they’d been separated for two years before it was finalized a month back.

“It’s just been a long time since Nat,” he said eventually, just to get John to stop making that face. “And it’s been even longer since I’ve been single and dating. You know how it is when you’re married. It’s so…comfortable. You get used to being with one person. I never thought I’d be back on the dating scene again. _In_ the scene? Christ, I don’t even know the terminology.”

“Divorce, man. It sucks.” Karl raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. Normally I have something hilarious to say to diffuse the angst, but not this time. Kerri and I have had our own problems recently.”

“Take my advice,” Karl said fervently. “Do whatever you need to do to hold it together with her.”

“I don’t even know what she wants right now. She says she misses the way I used to make her laugh.”

“But you’re – you’re John Cho. You can’t _not_ be funny.”

John nodded in furious agreement. “I know, right? But not like I used to be, apparently. She said she misses my _pranks_ , of all things. I used to pull off some great ones in college. But anyway, I think she’s wrong. I told her she misses the romance, and that’s an easy fix. She got mad at me, for some reason.” John shrugged, _it’ll all work itself out_ rolling wordlessly from his shoulders, and leaned forward again. “Back to your problem. Because, really? Our stalwart Captain? _That’s_ who you’re getting all flustered over?”

“Really.”

“I never realized you swung both ways.”

“I was with Nat for over a decade. The only way I swung then was Nat. But that’s not the issue. The issue is, I _work_ with the guy.”

“Not forever. Although I suppose there _will_ be the conventions. And possibly variety acts in Vegas once the shine is off our celebrity. Okay, point taken.”

“It’s weird.”

“You keep saying that. What’s so weird about it?”

“Because it’s _Chris_. It’s inherently weird. It just _is_ ,” Karl added firmly, when John opened his mouth to argue. Then he sighed and explained, “Because I don’t even know if he’s into men.”

“Oh, he’s into men,” John said. “I got him drunk one night when we were shooting the first film, and heard all his secrets.” John raised his hand to the bartender for another OJ. “You want me to set you two up?”

Karl spluttered on his mouthful of beer. “ _No_ ,” he wheezed. “ _No_. I shouldn’t have told you anything in the first place.”

“But I’m an _excellent_ matchmaker!” John smiled encouragingly. “In college, I was known for it. Well, apart from my pranks. Kerri used to call me Cupid.”

“That’s _embarrassing_.”

“It’s romantic!”

“Then why’d she stop, Cherub Cho?”

John thinned his lips. “Here, have another drink.”

By the fourth drink, Karl found himself telling John about how much fun it was to be running behind Chris on the new stunts. “Thing of beauty, that perfect gluteus maximus,” he’d said wistfully, and the memory mortifies him even now. “Michelangelo’s David has nothing on him. You know how long it’s been since I—”

“I think you might have had enough,” John said immediately. He’d wisely stuck to juice the whole night. Karl considered that for a moment, through his beer haze. John Cho: a man for whom good life choices came easily. But then again—

“If you’re such an excellent matchmaker, why are you having problems with your wife?” Karl asked. “Matchmaking’s all about the romance.”

“You make a good point, Urban. A good point.” John stood up decisively. “Come on, taxi time for you. And I have some planning to do. Trust me, Karl. Trust me. It’ll all work out in the end.”

~~~~

John’s planning evidently involved a set-up. A surprise date, to be exact, with Chris Pine, who looked charming and happy when he walked through the door, and stood by politely while Karl was still arguing with the maître d' about the fact that they needed a bigger table. And definitely one without rose petals. Chris even tried to explain the issue as well – “We’re expecting two more,” but the staff were surprisingly deaf to their pleas. Resigned, they sat down.

“We can ask to move when John and Kerri get here,” Chris suggested.

But then everything made a horrible, perfect sense to Karl – John and Kerri weren’t coming. And now here he is with Chris, and they’re looking at each other over soft flickering lights, Chris smiling a little, and Karl probably looking like he has a rictus, because, “Are you okay?” Chris asks. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I just thought John and Kerri would be here,” Karl says. “And – he didn’t say he’d invited you as well.”

Chris looks a little crestfallen. “Oh. He said it would be nice for us all to catch up.”

“I mean – it’s not a _bad_ thing.” _Urban, you weren’t legally divorced from your ability to function in a social setting_. “Sorry,” he adds awkwardly. “I just didn’t realize.”

Chris’s cell chimes. “It’s John,” he says, sounding relieved. “Hey, man, where – oh? Oh. Okay. That’s too bad. You’re sure? Well, I guess, we’re both here now, so…yeah, okay. See you Monday.” Chris hangs up, and Karl grips his damask napkin so tightly he’s afraid he might tear it in two. “They can’t make it – John’s mom is sick, so she couldn’t babysit after all.”

“Oh.” Karl is finding Cho first thing Monday, and having words with him. Words!

“But he said we should go ahead and have dinner if we want, since the seats are hard to book here. And have the champagne, because he sent it on in advance as a surprise for Kerri.”

“I don’t think…” Karl cuts himself off and gropes for a way to end the sentence without making Chris feel any more uncomfortable than he looks. But, despite John’s terrible methods, it’s an opportunity, and nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I don’t think we should let the champagne go to waste, at least?”

Chris smiles then, sunny and bright again, and Karl feels his throat constrict at the sight. “I like the way you think.”

After a glass each, they figure it would be rude not to order anything from the menu, and Chris really wants to try the lobster bisque, for which the restaurant is famous, and Karl orders it too, because he’s too nervous to focus on the menu. Once they finish the starter, the tension has eased, and they’ve each had another glass of champagne. Then, as Karl says, it’s important to counteract the effects of the alcohol with more food, and specifically steak au poivre, so they order entrees, and talk, about everything and nothing.

By dessert, Karl’s cheeks are sore from laughing so much. Chris is _funny_. He knew that already, from the set, of course, but Chris’s humor is overlooked sometimes, thanks to John and Simon’s antics, and Zach’s sardonic remarks, and JJ’s crazy left-field comments that leave the cast in paroxysms of laughter from the sheer absurdity. Chris’s sense of humor is more like Karl’s: quick-witted, but relaxed and self-deprecating.

Karl finds himself talking about his divorce, even though he tries not to, and then brushes it off. “There’s no doubt about it. I succumbed to the _Trek_ curse.”

“There’s a divorce curse? I thought the _Trek_ curse was about the even-numbered films being better than the odd-numbered.”

“You sound like Zach, helpfully correcting me. I wonder if anyone’s ever told him how annoying his need to correct others can be?”

“You know he’d just ignore it.” And Chris pulls off a decent imitation of Zach’s patient, slightly condescending tone. “Karl, my friend, people _have_ told me. _You_ have yourself, several times. I choose to ignore it, because I know deep down you’d rather be right than melodramatic.”

Karl laughs.

“Zach has his own impressions of me,” Chris says, looking a little guilty. “He actually does a really clever _Blind Dating_ pastiche, although my favorite is when he copies my dancing from _Just My Luck_. And by favorite, I mean, it makes me want to kill him.”

“You danced in _Just My Luck_? I haven’t seen it.”

“Word to the wise: don’t.” He grins, and Karl grins back. “And yeah, I danced, or tried to. Wasn’t my finest moment.” He takes a quick look around the restaurant and then gives Karl a brief demonstration, made even more ridiculous by the fact that he stays seated. Karl hasn’t laughed like this in months – years, maybe.

Chris is easy to be with, which Karl also already knew, but even more so one-on-one. Usually they’re with Zach, or John, or both. Karl is beginning to realize how little he really knows about Chris Pine, the man, as opposed to Chris Pine, the work colleague. But he’s learning more with each passing minute. If only dating could be this easy, he thinks regretfully, and the thought makes him seize up a little, because he wishes this could be a real date, but it’s not, not really. Chris is here under false pretences, and so, for that matter, is Karl.

But Karl hasn’t felt this comfortable with another person since Natalie, and for once, the thought of Nat doesn’t clench at his heart and make him feel sadness or loss. He thinks of her face, fondly, and wishes her well.

The violin player, who has been hovering around coupled-up tables, playing Vivaldi with a little too much enthusiasm, drifts their way, and Karl frowns. After a few bars, the violinist takes the hint, with a sniff and a raised eyebrow clearly meant to indicate Karl’s inability to appreciate fine music. He moves on to the private table in the corner, blocked off from prying eyes by a tasteful silk screen.

Karl wishes with everything in him that he and Chris could be behind that screen right now, because he wants nothing more than to be alone, _really_ alone with him. But Chris is smiling again, making some amusing comment about cheesy romantic dinners and how they’re never complete without an intrusive musician playing at the table. Karl grunts in reply.

“You okay?” Chris asks. “Tired?”

“Nah, mate. Just – just too much champagne. I should get going soon.”

Chris nods, but looks disappointed. “I had fun.”

“So did I.”

“We should do it again.”

“Yeah. Next time, hopefully, John will manage to coordinate a back-up babysitter.”

“I meant just us,” Chris says, and then looks as though he wishes he hadn’t.

Karl freezes, unsure what to say next, because he’s not entirely sure what Chris means. “Sure,” he croaks at last. “Sure. We don’t hang out enough.”

Chris slumps forward a little and then sits up straight as though he’s made a decision. “Look, I need to tell you something. I’ve been a little underhanded here tonight.”

“You – what?”

“Karl, I have a crush on you, and I swear that sounded less stupid in my head, but it’s true, I do,” Chris says in a rush, and Karl watches with interest as he slowly turns a lovely pink color.

“You – _what_?” he asks again.

“Forget it,” Chris mumbles, and throws his napkin on the table. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, wait,” Karl says, and it’s too loud, cutting through the noise of the tables around him until everyone glances their way. Karl can feel the eyes on him, but it doesn’t stop him grabbing at Chris’s hand. “Please.”

Chris sits down again slowly.

“Explain it to me. What exactly has this underhandedness – Christ, that’s a hard word to say after three glasses of champagne – what exactly is going on? And when you say a crush, is that a reference to your well-documented man-crush on me, or—”

“No,” Chris says quickly. “No. It’s more than that.”

What it is, Karl learns as the story comes out, is that Chris has had a thing for him since the first _Trek_ movie, but Karl was married then, and so he’d longed from a distance. “John was the only one who knew,” he admits. “And even then, it was only after I’d had too much to drink one night and shot my mouth off.”

“That man,” Karl says in wonder. “He’s a terrible, terrible influence.”

“He swore he’d never tell anyone.”

“He didn’t. Not to my knowledge.”

“Well, then.” Chris looks down at his hands. “By the time we started shooting this year, you’d been separated for so long, and then your divorce came through, and I thought…” He screws up his nose, and Karl is so overcome by the sudden desire to kiss it that he nearly misses the next part. “I thought maybe you’d be ready to try something new. But I didn’t know if you were even into guys, until—”

“Oh, let me guess. Until John just happened to mention it?”

“Yes. But I was still…shy. I’m kind of shy, Karl, when it comes to asking people out. I have this enormous fear of rejection, so…” He bites his lip, and now Karl wants to kiss his mouth, too. “John said he might be able to figure something out, like a set-up to get us alone, if I did _him_ a favor.”

Karl is beginning to wonder exactly how far John’s Machiavellian schemes extend. “What favor?” he asks bravely, not sure he really wants to know.

“Um.” Chris looks apologetic. “I’ll let him explain.”

“You’ll let—”

“Me explain!” John finishes for him, bouncing up to them from the table in the corner, behind the silk screen. He’s dragging Kerri with him, and she’s giggling and looks so happy and lighthearted that Karl has to smile back. “Simple enough. You both just have to answer one question, and prove a point to this wife of mine.”

“ _I_ never agreed to anything, Cho,” Karl protests.

John waves his hand in the air dismissively. “Which worked better for you tonight: humor or romance?”

“Humor,” Karl says immediately.

“I don’t know,” Chris says thoughtfully. “I mean, the rose petals are nice. And champagne is always a good thing.”

“The champagne did work well,” Kerri says. “I think I had too much,” she adds in a loud, conspiratorial whisper. “But John and I have a bet. Manufactured romance is boring. Choose humor.”

“The violinist _was_ appalling,” Karl tells John. “Really, really awful.”

“But it’s a classic!” John says. “And also, I need a win here. Go romance. Choose romance.”

“I think you’ve already got your win.” Chris grins up at them. “Am I right, Kerri?”

She laughs. “We have our answer, Cupid,” she says to John. “Humor. It’s essential.”

John smiles at her, and Karl recognizes the besotted look he used to give Natalie in the early days. The same way he’s been looking at Chris throughout the evening, come to think of it. John says, “I really thought that was something women just _said_. To make us feel better about our penis size or something.”

“Nothing to worry about—” Kerri starts.

“And if you’ll excuse us,” John says loudly, to Karl’s relief, “we have some prank phone calls to make, since I lost the bet. Lady’s choice as to the recipients, so you might want to put your phones on silent, just in case. And dinner’s on us, by the way.”

“Romance works too,” Kerri says magnanimously, kissing his cheek. They wave on the way out, and Chris and Karl look at each other, suddenly bashful again.

“You like my sense of humor?” Chris asks.

Karl links an ankle around his under the table. “Humor’s good. You know what’s better?”

“Tell me.”

“Have you ever seen the arse on Michelangelo’s David?”


End file.
